


Heile, heile Katzendreck

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Friendship Plus, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia feels like he's in his deathbed once a year and that prompts Hungary to consider him her only friend. With benefits. And then more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heile, heile Katzendreck

From where he lay it seemed like he could reach the window by outstretching his fingers, but in truth it was like trying to paw at the sun: his muscles resented the effort. Moreover, rapping on the glass would have meant leaving his jealously guarded post, which simply was a no-no. In the end, he just let the snow pile on the sill like a fat lazy cat stretching its body from corner to corner. 

Standing up wasn't the only thing he didn't feel like doing. 

Despite the incident with the ice cream, his brother had let him borrow his notebook out of pity, and in case that wasn't enough, there were a few books lying around he could reprise ―war chronicles, adventure, science-fiction and even some torrid chick lit he had bought on impulse― but today he didn't have the energy to lift a finger. The phone was within his reach too, except that he wasn't up to prank call people either, or at least not when his brain was sleep-deprived, his wit was gone, and his otherwise sharp tongue was entirely off. 

All in all, it was a slow day, so after tossing around left and right, he buried his face on the mattress and let his arm hang from the border of the bed. It was precisely then, after he had found a most comfortable spot, that there came a knock on the door.

"What is it, West," he mumbled, hiding under a pillow.

"I'm not as musclebound as him," Hungary's voice reached his ears, "but if you must know, I was once a strapping lad in my youth."

Prussia tried to turn around at once, but he ended up engaging in a fight with his blanket and falling from the bed just as he set himself free. Both of his arms were spread on the floor as he reeled from the impact, but he still did his best to strike a conversational tone. "So, what brings you here?"

She laughed at his warm welcome, not at him. Definitely, not at him. "I told you I'd drop by to see you metamorphose, Gregor Samsa."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think you would actually― Huh, care to lend me a hand?"

Hungary dropped her things on the floor and helped him to sit back on the mattress, pressing her boobs against his arm, soft as the best of pillows could never be. "You have bed hair, even more than usual." She passed her fingers through his hair to mess it up further.

"Argh." He squirmed in her grip, relinquishing enough territory for her to settle next to him.

"I brought all kinds of girly things so that we could have a proper slumber party," Hungary said after tucking him in.

"Good idea. Let's sleep in the nude," he suggested with a drawl to his voice, but she only turned her attention to the bags lying on the floor. "Did you at least bring lingerie?"

"I brought you stuffed toys, comfort food, tacky magazines and horror movies. Apparently, I'm making it up for my lack of girlfriends," Hungary said, spreading the magazines over his chest and the rest of her ill-gotten gains all around them. "Mind if I paint my nails?" she asked with a truffle-shaped cheek, lips shining with chocolate as she offered him one.

He shrugged, opening his mouth to receive the candy. "Go ahead."

If she noticed, she said nothing when he put an arm behind his head to watch her kick off her boots and take off her stockings, rolling up her jeans to show her shapely calves. Her scent, a mix of soap and cinnamon, had filled the whole room by then, and he had no better idea than to press his nose against a teddy bear to confirm that it also smelled like her. "So on the subject of girlfriends, what about Poland?"

Hungary gave that a thought. "It's funny, from time to time we run into each other and catch up over a cup of tea, but other than that..." She placed cotton balls between her toes, shaking the base of her rosy paint against the flesh of her palm. It was peaceful like that, to pretend that she always came to share an afternoon because she couldn't stay away from the catch that was him.

"It's as if we―" She then looked at him, a smirk on her lips. "I don't suppose you really care."

"No, I want to hear it. Come on," he said as if they had gone back to where they stood hundreds of years ago, their backs pressed against her city walls.

She made a face, puckering her lips. "Well, we used to be really close, and he's quite fun to be around for sure, but once we go on our way I'm left with the feeling that I'm not part of his life anymore, or that I stand right on the sidelines. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"To have your childhood friend drift apart after years of being all chummy with each other? Yeah, I wonder why that sounds familiar." Prussia shot her a look she replied to with a light squeeze on his hand. It was just his luck that he was forced to flail his arms and throw his head back a second later, ruining the moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Oh fuck," Hungary said in agreement. She stuffed a few tissues up his nostrils, then wiped the trickle of blood running down his chin. "Well, at least this brings color to your face."

Prussia gave her a half-smile before he sank on the pillows, deflating. She returned to her painting work. "And Ukraine?" he asked with a twang. "She's nice, right? Not to mention the only one in that family who ain't fucking crazy."

"Ukraine is nice." Her hair covered her face, but her posture was relaxed and her tone was warm, so he knew she meant it. "I can appreciate it now that we're on cordial terms. And she's really pleasant to hug."

"Tease."

"But we don't have the sort of relationship that would allow me to feel at ease and really be myself, you know?" Hungary sighed. "She's an acquaintance, not a friend like France and Spain are to you."

He rolled his eyes all the way back. "Hungary, they like to scribble on my face whenever I pass out drunk. And with a permanent marker at that."

"See? Comradeship." She gave him a playful punch that probably left a bruise in its wake.

"Well, then," he said, going through his mental atlas. "Monaco? Belgium? How about little old Liechtenstein?"

They snorted in unison the moment the words left his lips.

"She's sweet and lovely, so much that Switzerland would never forgive me if I were to corrupt her innocent mind."

"Yeah, you don't want to have him following your trail," he said, recalling the time he pranced naked around the Alps just because he could, until he couldn't. "Now I see why you love to hang around with Austria. He's the closest to a girl there is around these parts."

" _Very funny_. I guess it's just my fate to be one of the boys," she said with a deeper voice that made him feel hot and bothered. That, or he was running a fever. "So, how you're holding up? Is it exactly like it happens with England on every fourth of July?"

" _Please_ ," he said with a tinge of annoyance. "There's a difference between throwing a tantrum over a brat leaving the nest and being abolished as a state. Unlike him, I have a legitimate reason to feel like crap once every year."

"Does it hurt?"

"Like I had the flu and over one thousand years weighing on my shoulders. I can't even find it in me to take a nap."

"There, there," Hungary whispered, softening the wrinkles on his forehead with her fingertips.

He heaved a deep sigh, basking in the afterglow of her touch. "It's amazing how soothing can you be when you give a damn, woman."

"I'm amazing like that," she replied.

He flicked through a magazine not to meet her eyes right after giving her a compliment, but she insisted in peering over his shoulder until he stopped at page eight with a snicker. She let out a giggle.

"I have really bad cramps," Hungary read out loud. "Will making love with my boyfriend help at all?"

"We should make West read this column and see how he turns every color on the spectrum," he said. She hummed in response and followed each line with a finger, bumping her wrist against his fist. They were brushing each other's hands like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"There you are, Prussia, now you know what's good for pain management," she said with a glint on her eye. "Say, have you tried having sex on days like these?"

He looked at her miserably, suspecting there was a punch line in the works and at the expense of no other but himself. "No. Don't say you're thinking of fixing me up with someone just to watch."

She laughed. "I'm not. It must be the last thing on your mind right now, eh?" Hungary ruffled his hair like she would do with a child, a Puli, or someone who wasn't going to get any.

"Not really. But the question is," he said, hoping not only to up his game but to come out the winner, "is it the last thing on your mind right now?"

She nuzzled his cheek just before kissing the corner of his mouth. Ever since she had admitted that she would miss him should he be gone and he hadn't mocked her for it, there was something different in her deliveries. Less intent to injure beyond recognition, a little more innuendo. And now she was kissing him. "Nope. It isn't the last thing at all, but look at your nose."

"Screw that, you ought to do me. Fuck me silly and right now, before you change your mind. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and even if you were to finish me off, I'd die happy. _Please_."

"I'll be gentle." Without needing more encouragement than his puppy eyes, she threw the blanket over their heads and straddled him.

He flinched with a little yelp.

"Gentler," she corrected, kissing his neck and making him melt into a pile of goo. "But really, the moment it gets too uncomfortable, let me know. We can get creative or, I don't know, cuddle."

"Pft, I'll take it like a man," Prussia said, throwing an arm across her waist to pull her towards him. "I was going to say, remember when we were children and pitched tents on the woods? But you know, pitching a tent." He snorted against her shoulder.

"What kind of lame joke is that?" Hungary laughed, ribs colliding with his own. "Sorry there," she said, but he swallowed the pain and kissed her smile just as West came knocking.

She made a little squeaking sound and pressed her face against his chest, taking refuge in his strong, manly arms. It made him feel all kinds of funny.

"Not now! Busy here!" he shouted. As expected, the knocking went away.

"Great, now he'll know!" she whispered.

"Let him know. Or is that a problem?"

Was it? Was she ashamed of anyone getting wind of her choice to sleep with him? Hungary's eyebrows twitched and her mouth opened just as he felt a buzz on his thigh. "What's that, you brought another kind of toys?"

"Phone," she said, blowing the hair out of her face with a puff. The screen lit up both of their faces and he crooked his neck to see Austria's name blink back at him.

"For fuck's sake." He groaned, hitting the mattress with his fists, and she left his side just like that, phone in hand. Prussia wanted to cry, but given that he was a man in the whole sense of the word, he just let out a tiny, insignificant sound that wasn't a whimper at all.

"He has a concert coming up. Probably he wants to complain about the oboe," Hungary explained as she padded to the door.

"I don't fucking care," he whined, and she laughed. _At him_ , now he was sure.

"Okay, door locked, phone off." She returned to the bed and discarded her clothes one by one.

"This is really going to happen," he said stupidly.

"Oh, it is." 

She lost no time and hid below the covers, pulling up his sweater to leave a trail of kisses on his belly. He wriggled a little, prey of a spell of tickles, the cold of her nose and the warmth of her hands on the small of his back.

Prussia stretched his fingers to reach out for her, but once again he felt like he was pulling a muscle or more. "Come back up, won't you?"

"Really?" she asked in disbelief. "I was getting down to business."

"Really. C'mere, I want to kiss you and feel you up."

What he didn't say was that he wanted to see her, to know it was really her―

―taking the air out of his lungs when she elbowed his stomach by mistake. Ow.

They kissed at length as if they were making up for lost time, and he found out that in spite of all the little disappointments throughout the day, his outstanding drive was there for him when he needed it.

"The tent," he whispered in her ear, voice strained.

She pulled down his sweatpants with a yank. "I can tell."

His headache started to throb, and maybe his nose bled again when she came down on him, but it was worth it— they fit perfectly. He had always wanted to tell Hungary that, to make her see that for all their bickering and quarreling and cast-iron clubbing, they were right for each other. He wanted to tell her even now, but he couldn't. With his heart skipping beats even when they were going kind of slow, it was distracting to say the very least.

Hungary touched her knuckles to his face, and he wrapped his fingers around her hand out of impulse. It wasn't enough to keep her there with him, but he had to try. If all else failed, he could at least remember her like this, strong and beautiful. He could learn by heart the way her lips grazed his skin, and the weight of her body as she took him over. Last of all, her warmth, to get him through cold days.

The fact that he could think ahead made the whole deal a little less mind-blowing, but it still lit him up in all the right places. It was as if, instead of fireworks, there had been Christmas lights all over the place, warm and colorful and with a catchy little tune to boot. 

She placed a hand over his chest. "You're breathing too fast."

"Don't go yet," he whispered through half-lidded eyes, thoroughly spent. "We still haven't seen any movie."

"Shh," Hungary cooed.

"I'm sleepy. I don't want to be sleepy. Really, just stay." He squeezed her arm and she smiled at him, not getting how dire was the situation at all. She _had_ to stay.

"Sleep's good. It'll make you feel better, which was kind of the whole purpose." She gave him a peck and stroked his cheek until a tide of bone-crushing fatigue closed in over him. 

According to West, who otherwise claimed total ignorance on the matter, Hungary stayed for dinner and departed in the morning, but Prussia slept like the dead and was none the wiser. And now, with each of their excuses gone —her being in the mood and his being needy— he was having a hard time devising a way to pick up from where they left off. It was crucial that he said the right thing instead of blurting something too crude or, God forbid, embarking on a mind-numbing rant that made her think Austria was the fun choice after all, but he just couldn't think of something.

In the end, and pressed for time, he hazarded a call with his mind completely blank.

"Hey," he said as soon as he heard her pick up the phone, calling from the land line just so that he could twist the cord as he spoke. "Sorry I didn't call earlier, but I couldn't..."

Silence.

"Yes?" Hungary asked from the other side of the line. He racked his brain trying to guess where she stood, but it was hopeless. Her brief reply gave him too little to work with and analyze to death, being only a word and all, not to mention that it was truly stupid of him to act like this after knowing her for so long, like he was running out of air, and lo and behold, the cord _was_ about to strangle him, so he decided to take the plunge before he turned blue.

"I had no fucking idea what to say." He laughed awkwardly and expected her to do the same anytime now.

"Oh," she said instead.

"No, not _oh_ ," he hurried to clarify. "It was wonderful. Amazing. I just didn't know what to say to cajole you into thinking about giving it another try. But now you'll swoon over my honesty and agree to it, won't you?"

She did laugh this time, a mellow sound that made his bones turn into mush.

"Ahaha," he echoed. "What's so funny?"

"I would like to give it another try, yes."

And boy, did they try. One day, Hungary said to him over breakfast in a tiny Charlottenburg café and with eyes so bright it lit the whole damn place, "I feel like having sex everywhere."

Prussia almost choked on his coffee and went, "Let's."

The whole time he kept the pretense of spontaneity to impress her, but he went and bought a planner to concoct each of his schemes, which were nothing short of grand and imaginative if he might say so himself.

They did it in a houseboat by the Spree he coaxed West into renting, out in the open air on one of the many abandoned plots of land in the former East, where it was his ass that faced the sky and not hers, because he was a gentleman; on the roof of a derelict building that was scheduled to be demolished thanks to stupid gentrification and where rain surprised them, inside a Trabi long ago naturalized Hungarian and in some cozy little hotel by Balaton Lake, where they promptly fell asleep, woke up in the wee of the morning, and went at it again.

Since Prussia was back in his prime and now there were fireworks everywhere, it only occurred to him later that she always spoke of having sex and never of making love to him. Not that it mattered, of course; he wasn't going to let such a little thing get in the way of whatever they were to each other. And what was that exactly? He had no clue, but then again, who needed labels? Not them, certainly.

Still, he was curious, so ever the adventurer, he left for Budapest on the eve of the anniversary of his abolition and with one of the magazines she had brought and left ever since tucked under his arm. Page ten, _How to tell if your guy loves you_. Normally, he wouldn't listen to cheap advice like that, but with things like _Do you have amazing chemistry in bed but you can't tell if he's serious about you?_ and _Did you treat him to many a romantic evening but he hasn't said those three words yet?_ , shit, this thing was written for him.

"Hey, so I'm in Ferihegy," he said over the phone, by way of greeting.

After a while, she mumbled, "Who?"

"Me!" he shouted just in case she hadn't heard him well. "I'm here!"

"I know it's you. What are you doing here? How did you―?"

"S-surprise," he faltered, feeling utterly like crap.

"You shouldn't have. I was going to―" Hungary said with a exasperated sigh that made his heart sink. "I'm coming right away."

Prussia remembered one of the tips. _Into you: He'll always be happy to hear from you_. Not the case.

He huddled on his seat and rocked back and forth for what felt like hours, right until the ringtone he had picked for her nudged him awake. _In meinem Leben bin ich oft_... He didn't take the call and texted her the terminal's number instead.

"What were you thinking?" she said at last, jogging towards him.

He looked up to meet her. "You don't want to know."

For all her irritation, Hungary slung his backpack over her shoulder instead of punching him in the face. " _Gyere_ ," she said, which he felt to be Hungarian for _Move your ass, you stupid idiot_. Prussia followed in silence, even when she passed one of his arms around her neck and hugged his waist.

"A taxi?" he mumbled, shivering in the cold early morning.

"Yeah, it would take more fuel to take out the car in this weather. I feel stupid to save on fuel when the plane ticket I bought just went to waste, but it's something. I was going to come, you know."

 _Not into you: He doesn't want you to come to his place on your own accord_. Oh fuck.

"How the hell was I supposed to know? Well, you can still make it to Berlin. I'll follow later, or something," he said, shivering. He could swear the icy air was seeping through his bones.

"Don't be foolish. You're here now." She exchanged a few words with the cabbie and settled back on the seat to press herself against him, probably because she, too, was freezing. He sighed and closed his eyes as the car rolled through the city, but she wouldn't leave the matter alone. "Why did you think it was a good idea to hop on a plane without telling me?" With the way she said it, she might as well have slapped him. _So not into you_.

"I gambled and lost, yes," he said, blinking blearily. If this was the extent of how much she was able to put up with him, they had no business being together. "If it's about the money, I'll make it up to you."

"Yes, in this stupid crisis every forint costs me, and yes, that's money I saved up so I could see you. Money that now's gone." She bit her lower lip and looked ahead, at the road. "But you're here, and supposedly, any expense helps the economy. Málev isn't looking good."

"I flew through them," he said, in hopes that made her feel better.

But no, she just kept at it even once they reached her street, staggering from weariness all the way to her door. "We could have missed each other. You could have lost your way and ended up frozen solid in the bottom of the Danube, to be only found when spring broke." She shuddered.

He was so tired he could cry, but Prussia, being Prussia, cracked a smile at that. "Do you have to be so fatalistic?"

"It's who I was made to be," she said, looking him sideways with bags under her eyes. It was so fucking early. "So, what did you gamble?"

"What?"

"You said you gambled and lost. What did you mean?"

Again, he let her shoulder half his weight. "I came to find out whether this meant something to you," he said with a sniffle, head hanging low. "More than just sex, I mean. According to the tacky magazines, you're not into me."

She looked for her keys. "Magazines? As in a quiz? This is why you bought not one but two happiness pandas. I hate to break it to you, but you can be so naïve."

"No, no. It's 'cause I wanna be happy with twice the intent," he said, letting his head fall against the back of hers. "There's a difference."

Once inside, she dropped his backpack on the couch, leaving a trail of gloves, coats, hats and scarves behind them. Hansel and Gretel en route to the candy house and Russia calling out to say they would become one with him, be they fat or lean. Prussia laughed. He was barely awake.

"Thank God I don't have work today." She made him seat on her undone bed, kneeling before him to untie his snow-covered shoes. He felt his way around, looking for support, but instead he wrapped his fingers around the nightgown she had thrown away. "Why would you think I'm just after sex?"

He didn't know whether he should feel offended or not. "What, suddenly I'm not good enough to warrant mindless lust?"

Hungary rose to her full height, pushed him onto the bed and flung herself at his side, wrapping a leg around both of his. "Look," she said.

Prussia waited for her to say something reassuring, but her breathing was soft and even against the crook of his neck, so he just let her sleep and resigned himself to feel kind of lonely even with her being so close.

"It's okay. No big deal. You know I like to be alone," he said with a little snort, finger-combing her hair. "I guess it's my intensity that is to blame. How was it? You said so yourself long ago. _He always wants more and more; he can never have enough_. Well, excuse me for wanting nothing but your all."

He chuckled to himself, his whole body aching from head to toes as if a car had run him over. It had almost happened once on the rush to exchange his marks for West's.

"Why would I think you're just after sex, you say?" Prussia yawned until tears clouded his eyes. "Must be because after decades of watching you from afar, I ought to know what do you look like when you're in love. Yeah."

Hungary stirred just when he was starting to fall asleep, drool on the corners of his mouth and all. "You don't know anything. Pass me my phone," she said.

He groaned, threw her bag on the bed and tried to turn his back on her, except that her leg was still there over him like an iron clamp.

"Did I wake you up? No? Good," Hungary said, nestling her head on his chest. He thought he could hear a faint male voice on the other side. 

"What the hell?" Prussia mouthed, but she paid no attention.

"Yes, he arrived safe and sound. Listen, I'm going steady with your brother." Something burst open inside him then, but he pretended not to have heard and closed his eyes shut until his lids hurt. "You had the feeling? Why, yes, anyone who isn't dense would have known we've been going steady for a while now." She caressed his cheek at this point, but he turned his face to the other side. "I must go now, take care. Ah! I'll be kidnapping him for a few days. I hope that's alright. Yes, thank you. Bye." She hung up with a giggle, then said, "Well?"

"You just called him not to say anything to my face." He sniffled again just as Hungary, not content enough with her bear trap of a leg, threw the covers over them and draped an arm across him.

"You're my girlfriend, my lover, my man. I love you and I'll do my best to make you twice as happy for every damn panda you bought until we both drop dead," she said with that typically Magyar touch, kissing the tears that were spilling over his face. On days like these, he felt rather emotional. "There. Was that all right with you? Can we sleep now?"

He nodded, shifting to hold her tight and bury his face on her boobs.

"And here I thought you didn't like commitment."

"Marriage," he corrected her. "I hate marriage as the easy way to run away from battles. And I also hate it when it's you marrying to someone else. Other than that, you know I'm faithful like a dog."

"Yes, I know." She kissed the top of his head, tousling his hair. "Hey, sleep? Rest well because I want to fuck you tender all day long, when you feel better."

"Okay," he said. And she was right, he really was under the weather. Even trying to smile from ear to ear hurt.


End file.
